The Clarity of Tragedy
by PanicPandemic
Summary: And I will always hear the lullaby, because after all, I still love you. In which Lavi hears a beautiful angel sing its song of sorrow to an audience of howling winds. Multi chapter Laven/Lavi x Allen AU, rated T 'cause I'm paranoid, reviews are welcome!
1. Let me Hear the Lullaby

A lone note drifts through the frigged breeze like a long forgotten requiem of darkness and haunting fears. A single breath escapes from my ever silent lips as I hear the soft calls that wind its way towards me, whispering their frozen call of broken promises. And I welcome every moment they play their song of forgotten dreams. It numbs me to the core, unaware of all but the bitter sweet ballad that leaves a metallic taste in my mouth. I tremble and flinch through all the pieces of the calls that scream softly to be freed, to be heard, to be loved, only to go unheard by all but me. A lone, dull star glumly enveloped in the shadows of the darkest of night skies. But I would always concede with myself that that is all that is needed for something to be acknowledged. Perhaps there is, in fact, more than one single light in the darkness that needs to be aware of such things for them to finally be at ease. Although at that moment I could care less, for I am indeed a selfish creature. I want the symphony to belong to me and only me, I want to be the only one to hear its cries in the dark night, no one but me. For the others, who ungratefully discard the song and toss it aside to the snow covered streets, may taint its beauty with having merely noticed it. They could very well force it into silence, so that there truly is no chance of it being heard. No, it will stay as it is, mine. Mine and only mine for the disgusting creatures around me have no sense and would soil it in all its glory. At one point I found myself slowly, unconsciously following the notes drifting freely in the wind, only to meet silver. At that moment in this frost bitten world I found myself basking in the warmth that was coursing through my veins, pounding against my heart. I have never seen someone more beautiful in the entirety of my life. However, silver disappeared from my sight, to leave me in the lonely cold time and time again. Though the first thing I did was follow like a moth did to a light every chance it got. I didn't meet silver again that night. Silver. It was all I saw in those silent seconds upon laying my eyes on the angel who sang in their beautiful voice. Silver. The only thing I cared to think of and look at at that moment was their eyes. Silver. Their eyes were like the most prominent shade of sterling silver that could never be brought out by any metals. I wanted to see them again. Although I didn't see any part of their features other than their eyes, that's all I needed to find this mysterious angel. I let out a sigh of slight disappointment that they had ran away in that moment so quickly, although I suppose there's nothing more to it than that they ran out of fear. For some one to flee so quickly can possibly tell you a lot about that person, for example, the fact that they abandoned their position so quickly despite the fact I had never moved a single muscle in a threatening sort of way, gives away the fact that it is very difficult if not nearly impossible to earn their long discarded trust. I let out a soft laugh, being reminded so much of myself it was ironic. And so I head on my unknowing journey to find the angel who sang out to the darkened heavens with one thing on my mind. Silver.


	2. White Rose

Chapter 2

I'm almost certain it has already been an entire week since I laid my eyes on the silver eyed angel upon which has been clouding my thoughts throughout the day and haunting my dreams every past night since then. I can't say I hate the warmth pounding through my veins every time my thoughts drift in the direction of the beauty, I can feel it in my heart that I will eventually see them in the near future. Either way, I have to, even if it kills me, find the one that shines in the night. Yes, an evening bloomer, I liked the sound of that, the way they are out of sight in daylight, never to be heard or seen, whilst in the evening they are the brightest star in the pitch black skies, the single candle lit in the middle of a dank castle on a cold winter's night, they are the single white rose in a sea of black carnations, they are the everything of nothing. And my heart goes out to that lone rose. Just as my musings came to an end, I realized the sun has almost grown tired in its daily routine of lighting up the sky in an impeccable brightness. I smiled softly to my self, hoping that this time my White Rose was atop one of the grassy rolling hills, allowing their voice to be carried through the stone cold breeze of winter. I step outside to feel the wind whip past me in the most prominent of ways as I trudge through the abundances of people crowding together to get out of the bustling streets of this surprisingly small town. Eventually, and with a lot of effort, I made my way out of the town and through a slightly intimidating forest, immediately afterwords I was met with miles and miles stretching with rolling hills of green and clear skies that were hard to take your eyes off of with their charm. I simply stayed planted in the one spot, eagerly awaiting to hear the rose's gorgeous voice, if they did, that is. Minutes turned to hours and hours turned into an eternity of solitude and complete silence save the way the winds howled like starved wolves. And I heard it. It was soft, so soft that it could have very well have been my imagination succumbing to temptation, but it couldn't have been, the way that that voice shook with raw emotion that no figment in my mind could conjure up it's silent power. I felt my own breath hitch in my throat as I really took the time to hear every part of what was sung. How at times there was the tiniest crack in their voice but the melody was filled with an indescribable sorrow that somehow it only proved to be more enchanting. And how with each song that has passed the new song was sang with a stronger, more confident, voice than the ones before it. I decided that this could be one of my few to no chances to finally talk to this person so I headed in the direction of the low wispy lullabies. I finally caught sight of the silhouette placed upon the top of the exact hill they were on the first night I saw them. On impulse I forced myself to move closer to the rose little by little with each hesitant step. I drew a long breath through my nose and finally found myself but ten feet from the feature of my distant thoughts and recurring dreams. Slowly I crept behind them trying to be as silent as possible, my heart pounding out of my chest and my lungs feeling as though they were about to burst, before I finally laid a gentle hand on a small shoulder. The figure spun around almost immediately on contact, frightened eyes staring up at me. Silver. And at that very moment the moon decided to appear from the clouds above and reveal the figures face. Soft, rounded features enhancing chrome silver eyes and smooth pale skin illuminated by the moon floating lazily in the inky sky. A perpetual scar ran down from the forehead to cheek, starting off as an upside-down pentacle, slashing ungracefully over the left eye, with a single gash along a defined cheek bone right above a line parallel to it that hooks close to the ear, connecting to a line curving towards the left and ending in the odd shape of a teardrop. _'As beautiful as I had imagined...' _Even if it kills me...


	3. Chance encounter

Chapter 3

***Allen'sPoV***

There he was. The mysterious man who had heard my singing and weaved his way in my thoughts so that he is always there, in the back of my mind. I almost smiled at the fact that he looked so ecstatic to have found me once more, but that was easily tossed aside as hopeful thinking, after all, I didn't know the man personally, and some one so beautiful shouldn't waste his time with a pitiful, broken being such as me. I sighed and knew that even though I still had the chance to run and escape the man, there would be no point, there's nothing to lose in at least trying to introduce myself, is there? I decided to look up from my feet and really take a closer look at his features.

I must say, there was no lie when I said he was beautiful. He had a mess of crimson red hair in an array of disorderly spikes held up with a strange bandana, although somehow that hopeless looking mess simply added to the charm. From what I could see, illuminated by only the silver moonlight, was fair, sun-kissed tan skin. He was a bit taller than myself, and the most lovely smile. But that wasn't what captivated me, left me breathless and cold yet filled and warm all at once. It was his eyes. Or, should I rather say, eye, his left eye, it was the most brilliant of emeralds I have seen in my entire, quite honestly short, life, and I loved it, it held so much emotion despite being lone, vast knowledge and love, for what I wasn't quite sure of. His right, however, was regrettably covered by a black eye-patch.

***Lavi'sPoV***

Finally, I had finally found the lithe angel haunting my dreams each night, and I wasn't about to let him go, I never really believed in love at first sight, I found it childish and quite literally stupid. Now I believe it to be true, for I feel it has happened to my very self. Although I feel there is many things I want to say to the boy, I know that the best choice is to simply start off with- "U-um... Hello there." The angel pipes up shyly, barely looking up at me after doing so. I couldn't help but grin at the boys futile attempts to shy away. "Hiya there, cutie~" I said with a joking purr, winking, although the boy might not actually understand that part... Damn eye-patch. He jumps a bit after hearing me speak up and looks at me astounded by my words. Huh, Guess the kid doesn't get compliments much.

He laughs, and I feel myself drift away from my senses hearing him. It sounds like the pleasant chirp of a sparrow, yet the coo of a mourning dove, and all at once as brittle as the crisp winter air and as comforting as silver bells, I keep in mind I should probably make him laugh more often, it makes me feel so airy and warm. I decide to chuckle softly along with him, and gently take his left hand, which immediately caused his amusement to dissipate. He looked almost mortified and yanked his hand away with more force than I thought he could muster and stared at his own appendage in slight disgust. I wince and take it as though he thought I was revolting, before he takes my hand with his right hand with guilt evident in his features, "I'm sorry... That was very rude of me, I would just appreciate if you kept contact of my left hand minimal, if that's okay with you." I blink once. Twice. Before I nod, slightly confused by the events that had just taken place.

I squeeze his, double checking, right hand, throwing him my signature, charming grin and speak up, "Nah, it's alright, but if ya don't mind me asking, what's y'ur name, beansprout?" He visibly flinches at the new nickname before he whispers gently, "Allen, Allen... Walker, and yours?" he asks curiously. "Lavi Bookman." He nods and shakes my hand gently, seeming to feel more confident about speaking with me, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lavi" "Indeed it is, Beansprout." twitches again and mutters, "I would appreciate if you didn't call me that, y'know..."

***Allen'sPoV***

Beansprout. Why does he insist on calling me that? I've never found myself to be particularly short in stature at any point, I've always been average height, this guy is just freakishly tall! Never mind being handsome this guy better not call me that anymore, cause the name's Allen, and he better get it through his thick skull real quick! He starts to laugh and I glare at him, immediately silencing him, he blinked, before regaining himself, throwing me a big crooked smile and chirped, "Sorry but no-can-do, Beansprout, it's cute and fits too well~."

I feel my glare darken before I sigh and say, "Fine but y'better not forget that the name's Allen, got it?" My voice was much less threatening than I hoped it would come out to be, nonetheless I got my point across as he said, "Not a chance, Cutie." I relax a bit still weary of the awful nicknames that are most likely going to be thrown at me rather abruptly, decide to ignore it and still try to converse with the young man rather than flee like my original plan. Despite how irritating it is to be called short, I really do hope we get to be good friends, if not mor- too much wishful thinking...


End file.
